


Such Stuff as Dreams Are Made On

by Scappodaqui, stripyjamjar, tinzelda



Series: Scraps [11]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Art, Artist Steve Rogers, Awkward Flirting, Bad Puns, Baseball, Bucky Barnes Feels, Censorship, Epistolary, Escapism, Euphemisms, Fanart, Flirting, Frank talk, Letters, M/M, Puns & Word Play, The Commandos Play Baseball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scappodaqui/pseuds/Scappodaqui, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripyjamjar/pseuds/stripyjamjar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinzelda/pseuds/tinzelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They tell us that letters help boost morale for the boys over there, and I’ll do my best to raise your spirits. In the meantime, I’ve got your sketch here, and it makes me think of you, practicing hard to get better at your particular art, even over there. That’s pretty damn inspiring, if you ask me.</i><br/>[—Frank Maitland, in a letter to Steve Rogers]</p>
<p>Letters from later in the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frank

Dear Steve,

I can’t tell you how surprised and pleased I was to get your letters and your sketch. I often think fondly of that time you asked me for advice, seeing as how I’m a more experienced artist than you, and I can see from this picture that you’ve finally been getting lots of practice. I completely approve. Thinking of you putting such care and effort into this particular subject matter—very impressive, by the way—well, you know it’s something that’s of interest to me as well, so I’m honored you’d share this particular work with me. By the time you get back home and maybe get out here to see little old me, I bet you’ll be a regular master, able to teach me a thing or two. I look forward to it. Good teachers like it when their students surpass them. And we art enthusiasts have to stick together.

Speaking of art, I’ve been practicing a lot since you left. With my painting, I mean. I’ve got several canvases that are almost ready that I’m really proud of. I think I was wasting a lot of my time for a while there. After working all day, I didn’t really feel like sitting down, picking up a brush, and trying to be brilliant. So I’ve stopped trying to be brilliant and am just trying to get better. I’ve been working hard, and James—You remember James, don’t you? Of course you do—has a friend who owns a little gallery, and he might be willing to let me have a show. Maybe I could even sell a few paintings, who knows?

Anyway, I think with all the extra practice, I’ve improved a bit too. I’m enclosing a sketch of my own—a little self-portrait, so that you can see how I’m progressing. I have a feeling there’s at least one fellow art lover over there with you. Maybe you could get his opinion.

I just saw one of your newsreels last week, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw my pal Steve up there in the thick of it. I have a feeling you liked filming that better than _Freedom on the Front_. Captain America stepping out of the funny books. You know I’m not a fan of surrealism, and this all seems pretty surreal to me. But you’re an inspiration to the folks back here at home. I bet a lot of guys see your movies and then rush to sign up. I myself want to buy a dozen war bonds every time I see one of your posters. You probably don’t think of me as the praying type, but I tell you honestly that every time I get down on my knees I think of you and your unit.

In all seriousness, though, I know how much you wanted to be over there, contributing, doing some good. Give ‘em hell, Steve. And I’m glad to know you’ve got someone who’ll watch your back. Thank that Sergeant of yours for me, will you? He’s a lucky guy, serving under a man like you. But he probably already knows that.

I have to say, I’m happy that you got in touch. Usually I like to think I know everything, but I really do enjoy the fact that you surprise me. There aren’t that many people I can say that about. I definitely look forward to hearing from you once the war is over. If you make it out to California, we could go to another party—James will use any old thing as an excuse for one of his soirees, and I can’t think of a better excuse than welcoming you boys home in style.

But you don’t have to wait that long, you know—you can drop me a line again. They tell us that letters help boost morale for the boys over there, and I’ll do my best to raise your spirits. In the meantime, I’ve got your sketch here, and it makes me think of you, practicing hard to get better at your particular art, even over there. That’s pretty damn inspiring, if you ask me.

Take care of yourself.

All the best,  
Frank

 

Dear James,

What a surprise to get a letter like this from out of the blue. We’ve heard a lot here at home about the importance of keeping up morale, and I’m more than ready to play my part as morale booster, even if it’s just as a pen pal. I actually have lots of pen pals. I’m a friendly sort of fellow, as perhaps Steve has told you, and I’m always happy to increase my correspondence.

I’m sure Steve explained that he and I became friends because we’re both artists. Did you know I drew the good captain for the poster advertising Freedom on the Front? I think Steve was a little embarrassed by the film, but I kept trying to tell him he doesn’t need to be a brilliant actor to please and entertain his audience. They seem plenty inspired when they walk out of the theater. I myself saw a newsreel with Captain America and his loyal Sergeant, and I thought I might burst with patriotic pride.

Maybe you should convince Steve to take another shot at the silver screen. He may not enjoy it, but it seems only fair that Captain America give his men a chance to share the spotlight. I saw at least one smile in that newsreel that was perfect for Hollywood. And that was before I got such an interesting letter—that little teaser of a movie poster Steve drew for me has me quite eager to see this particular feature.

Thank you for the drawing. I know it’s Steve’s work, but I also know him well enough to see that the inspiration is completely due to you, as well as the idea of sending it to me. In spite of his many merits, he’s rather modest and would never show off. Did Steve tell you I tried to get him to experiment a little? I imagine he did. He’s such a devoted artist. I thought he might like to vary his theme a bit—just for practice you understand—but he was rather focused on his particular favorite subject matter. I can respect that, but I’m tickled pink that you’re getting him to branch out a bit. I truly can’t wait to see the results for myself. I know he didn’t have much formal education, but he’s got impressive natural talent.

In terms of inspiration, I’m not sure I can completely repay you for the drawing you sent me, but I wanted to at least send you something. So I’m enclosing a sketch I did of Steve on set. We sat for each other several times, but I don’t think he even knows about this little study I dashed off one afternoon soon after the mail came in. He was pretty absorbed in whatever he was reading. Steve was always happy when there was mail for him, and I noticed this expression on his face—seemed like something worth capturing.

Take care over there. I’d tell you to keep an eye on Steve, but I have a feeling I don’t have to.

Sincerely,  
Frank Maitland


	2. Frank

[](http://s242.photobucket.com/user/ssamss/media/20151112_214540Edit2Lrg.jpg.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sent with Frank's letter to Bucky, a picture of Steve reading one of his letters.
> 
> (art by [stripyjamjar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stripyjamjar/pseuds/stripyjamjar))


	3. Ruth

Dear Bucky,

I don’t like calling you that. It’s also the name of that stupid kid in the comics, and you’re not him. Why did you let them do that? And our last name and everything? Uncle Freddie said, “Ho, ho. Did they put your brother in a shrink ray the same time as they made that Rogers kid into Charles Atlas?” And Ma said, “Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no such thing as a shrink ray. Steve just finally finished his carrots.” And she laughed! Traitor! So I told Lizzie she had better draw a comic version of you that’s more acturate. She tries, but she keeps getting frustrated by hands, and also how to put legs so they look like they really have knees. I took one look at the latest panel she’d tried to draw and I deemed it Unsuitable for Transport Overseas. Sorry about that. We’ll try again. (I know you said don’t pick on Lizzie, but I don’t think Having Standards is the same as Picking On.) 

Everyone is stupid here without you. I mean, you’re stupid, of course, but not as bad, or at least not as boring. I’ve had to go to Becca for math help, and boy, is she a pill about it. She’s also saying she probably won’t even go to college, which makes me really mad. I guess it’ll have to be me. City College isn’t a bad option, though they’re saying it’s not for the real smart ones, it’s for girls who just want somewhere to mix up and find a husband once the boys come home and all flood in there. But it’s what you make of it, and my grades are very good. Even algebra. I had a long talk with Ms. Friel about my prospects. I know I won’t be the next Madame Curie, though I know that would make you happy--science isn’t my subject. But maybe teaching. Or writing newspaper articles that really call a spade a spade. Like some of what I’ve been reading about the war front, that’s good. I think telling the truth about what’s happening in the world is important. And it’s more interesting than working in a factory.

You know even you don’t always tell the truth. I guess you can’t. You’d give away your position. You also probably don’t want to tell me everything, though thanks for telling me about that big fight you had where Steve ripped apart a tank. It’s good to know that’s real, although, as you say, that the metal of tanks is not ductile (I had to look that one up) enough that you can actually tie a bow in the gun barrels of them.

But it gets me mad when I sneak a look at Ma’s letters from you and you just talk about going on leave. What about the times you shoot people? I know you shoot people, and stab them. It’s all over the comics. Even the newsreels tell lies. They’re just you laughing and goofing around, but I saw in one of them your friend with the beret had a big bandage over his ear. It’s okay, though. I’ll keep your secrets. By the way, your friend with the beret sure is charming. I know he’s far too old for me but you can tell him I said that. You won’t, will you? 

So I think I’ll be a war reporter. Or a reporter in general. I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on, I really have--especially Betty Wason, and listening to her show, too. I even made Ma buy her cookbook Cooking Without Cans, which has a lot of foods from places you’ve probably been in Europe. The result of which was that she made me do the cooking one night and it didn’t end well. Maybe we should give that book to you and Steve when you get home, since you did mention you were wanting to learn to cook. I guess you’ll still board together after the war even now he’s Captain America?

It’s strange, because I keep thinking about whether the war will end. That changes a lot. Ms. Friel says if it ends soon, a lot of you will come home and want to go to college, too. Would you want that? I guess it would be awfully funny, you being in college at the same time as your middle-little sister. You’d be almost thirty, or even older. I don’t think that’s going to work. I’m sorry to tell you that, but someone has to be realistic around here. Everyone else just keeps talking about how remarkable it is that you’re Captain America’s sidekick. 

I know you’re not a sidekick. Don’t worry. I’ll keep correcting them. 

Best wishes,  
Ruth

P.S. I don’t know exactly what my best wishes are, but Ma says that I am not to sign my letters with ‘keep knocking them dead’ anymore. You should, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[Betty Wason's cookbook](http://www.amazon.com/Cooking-without-cans-Betty-Wason/dp/B0007HLWG2).   
> -[Betty Wason as war reporter](http://nojobforawoman.com/reporters/timeline/betty-wason-1940/).


	4. Colonel Phillips (Mission Report Transcript)

**04MAR1944**

Col P: What is this here, BDRGs? I don’t believe it’s an acronym with which I am familiar.  
Pvt J: That would be Big Damn Ray Guns, sir.  
Col P: That cannot be protocol.  
Pvt J: That is what they appeared to be in our best estimation.  
Col P: Now it says here that Brisket--which of you circus clowns is Brisket?  
Cpt R: That would be me, sir.  
Col P: Which one of you had the idea to throw Brisket right in front of the fire, so to speak? Who in the hell _wrote_ this report?  
Sgt B: That would be me, what with having the best vantage point.  
Pvt J: With all of our assistance post hoc.  
Col P: So you’re the one who did the suggesting, or the one who did the godawful writing? Oh, I see here. Ham suggested throwing Brisket in front of the fire. Which of you is _Ham_? Jesus Christ, I can’t keep track of the Signals Department’s new code names. You’re making me hungry.  
Pvt J: Ham is Jim, on account of--  
Col P: Which Jim? Falsworth, Barnes, Morita?  
Cpl M: Morita.  
Col P: Corporal, you suggested throwing Brisket--  
Cpl M: His shield, sir. Private Jones--  
Col P: He would be Gâteau? Who thought that one up?  
Pvt J: A, E, and T are some of the shortest letters in Morse, sir; Gâteau was for ease of transmission.  
Sgt B: Don’t that take the cake?  
Col P: Gentlemen, this is supposed to be a briefing.  
Pfc D: Actually, this was supposed to be our breakfast.  
Col P: Well, Stark’s a little excited about your… what is it, BFRGs?  
Cpt R: BDRGs, sir.  
Col P: I know that, Rogers, shut your mouth. Now then, you say that the vibranium deflected the rays--  
Cpl M: Yes, we had guessed that the rays would reflect at an augmented frequency given the convex surface of the shield, sir.  
Pvt J: Got the idea from Medusa and the Gorgons, too. Well, Theseus.  
Col P: Thought these jokers were calling themselves HYDRA?  
Pvt J: Guess it worked on hydras, too, sir, because if you’ll see here…  
Col P: [...] Jesus tapdancing Christ. A blast radius of 1200 yards?  
Sgt B: 1200 give or take. We measured by judging sound from a rifle shot taken at a very discreet distance.  
Col P: No wonder Howard’s all in a tizzy.


	5. Steve

Dear Frank,

Thanks for your letter, and for Bucky's. You should have seen him grinning and laughing when he read it. His letter took a few days longer to get here than mine, and I think he was wondering if maybe you weren’t going to write to him at all. But it made him that much happier when he got it. And I guess we both enjoyed it when he was writing back to you. I think you boosted his morale, but good. Not that I’m complaining. I guess my own was boosted just as much. I’ll always be happy to hear from you, but I don’t have a way with words like the two of you. I’ll have to leave the poetics to you and Bucky. I guess I should watch what I put in my letters though, since he's our unit censor now. He’s reading everything I write. If I put anything in here he doesn't like he can just black it out. XXX XXXXXXX XXXXX X XXXXXX XXXX XXX XXXXX XXX XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX XX XXXXXX.

So you saw one of our newsreels. Pretty great, huh? Though I don’t mind if a certain Hollywood smile was more interesting to you than the news. I’m distracted by it myself, more than I should admit. Not that we don’t concentrate on the task at hand when we need to. I remember being back home, seeing those newsreels, and wishing I could help. I can’t tell you how good it is to be here really accomplishing something. Yes, we’re in the thick of it. So much so that there isn’t much I can tell you—a lot of it’s classified. But we’re a lot luckier than most of the guys over here, because we really get to see how what we’re doing is helping. There are a lot of men who work a lot harder for a lot longer under worse conditions but never understand how what they’re doing contributes overall.

I’m really happy to read about your hard work with your painting. You really are talented, and I know you get frustrated with your work at the studio. Keep me posted about that gallery show. I wish I could be there to see it, but I’m sure it’ll be such a success that there’ll be plenty more in the future, so I’ll be able to see one someday. Maybe I shouldn’t admit it, but I have an ulterior motive here—I don’t want to be selfish when you’ve already taught me so much. But I’m hoping you’ll get yourself established as an artist, really make a name for yourself, and then when I come home you can show me the ropes. Bucky’s been talking a lot about California, and after sleeping outside a lot this winter, the idea of being someplace warm sounds pretty good. And Bucky loves hearing about that party. I think he’d really like to be invited to one himself.

We’re heading out early tomorrow, so I’ll close and get this in the mail before I hit the hay. Thanks again for the morale boosting.

Sincerely,  
Steve


	6. Bucky

Dear Frank,

I’m going to be frank with you, if it’s not too terribly confusing. But then again, you seem like a fellow who doesn’t mind making much of himself. We haven’t met yet, so I can’t say for sure as to whether I would myself make head or tail of you, but I’m certain either way, it would be plenty. 

I have of course seen your self-portrait, and if it’s anywhere near as accurate as your picture of Steve I think you may have underestimated your own potential in Hollywood as well. You’re quite a flatterer. I have to say, the idea of visiting your parts gets more exciting every day. I do hope I can stand up to what you’ve seen on film. I’m don't think even the flattery that knocked me flat could keep me down so I’m pretty sure I will.

I’m tickled you did a poster for that movie as I’m a great admirer of the opus myself. You ought to know that one of our buddies always says, ‘Freedom on the Front--Tights on the Rear’ and I’m sure we’d all get a kick in the pants seeing what would happen if you illustrated the full subtitle too.

Steve doesn’t even know the talents he has, though again I will say he got quite a lot of inspiration from you when it came to certain specific instructions and uses of material. In all seriousness, I know I ought to thank you. It’s not just the instructions and all, but also the story of that party you dragged Steve to, that’s helped keep us going through a pretty long winter out here. But the sun’s out again (it never sets entirely in my particular view, and I can tell you know what I mean) and it’s true when I watch Captain America salute the flag I’m feeling more patriotic myself by the day, and do believe that at the end of this thing, there’ll be a bit of a chance to take it all in and get some rest down by you.

Seeing that picture you did of Steve means a lot too, though. You know I’m not an artist myself although I am the artistic type, which is a strange position to be in. Not that I mind too much. I’ve been in stranger ones. 

Speaking of inspiration even just writing this letter after reading yours got us pretty worked up--the inspiration for some perspiration if you know what I mean--I showed what I’d got written to Steve halfway through. Anyhow, his face sure is a picture right now. Which I guess you’ll have to imagine. 

You sure have raised our morale today. While we’re here fighting for freedom on the front, I do hope you’ll keep up your end on the home front, or maybe I mean the rear. I’m having so much fun I could do this all day but Steve’s getting awfully impatient as he does so you’ll have to forgive me dashing off. I do that a lot--which I’m sure a similarly dashing fellow such as yourself can understand.

Best Wishes,  
Sgt. James B. Barnes


	7. Frank

Dear James and Dear Steve,

I’m addressing this letter to you both. I should have guessed that you’d read each other’s letters, since you’ve been such good pals for so long and have no secrets. So I’ll write to both of you at once but don’t worry—I’ll write twice as often to keep up my morale-boosting duties.

James, your dashed off letter was particularly dashing. And surprisingly inspiring. You’re a good friend, to help Steve with his impatience. The thought of a fine, upstanding citizen like Captain America being impatient—well, I guess it gives the rest of us regular fellows permission to be as impatient as we like, doesn’t it? And I have been impatient. I’ve found a few ways to pass the time, but every time, I seem to be distracted from my impatience only for a short while. I’m blushing a bit as I read your last letter. You flatter me and my little self-portrait. I do think it’s a fair likeness, but to be honest, the picture doesn’t quite capture my true talents—those can’t be sent through the mail. I work with oils quite often, and perhaps I can convince you to sit for me one day. I always enjoy finding new inspiration.

I’ve started a new canvas actually. I liked your alternate subtitle for _Captain America: Freedom on the Front_ so much that it did indeed inspire me create a whole new poster. James, you’re going to love it. Steve, you might think I’m silly, with this new painting. You’re more serious about your art. Maybe too serious, if you’ll forgive me for saying so. I know you’ll always be extremely devoted to your particular art, but James, I think between you and me we can get him to have a little fun on the side. Don’t you think? I’m very happy to hear that my earlier instructions met with satisfactory results, but as your mentor I feel I must remind you that there are a lot of materials out there, and a true artist will experiment with everything available to him to achieve his desired effect. I have a lot more to teach. Steve, you’ve already proven himself eager to learn, and James, I can tell you are too. There’s nothing I like better in a protégé.

I wish I could send you a copy of the poster, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t make it through the mail unscathed. I think I’ll have to keep it safe here until you get home and show it to you then. (So I’ve been on my knees as much as possible, praying for an end to the war and you boys getting home safely and quickly. There’s that impatience again—just trying to do my duty to my country.) Since I can’t show you the picture just yet, I’ve given a peek to some of my artist friends. As I’m sure you can imagine, they admire it. I take great pleasure in knowing that my art (with a particularly inspiring subject) has caused patriotic fervor to swell deep in the hearts of many. Actually, I have Captain America to thank for my first official commission. A friend of mine owns—oh, to call it a _bar_ seems so pedestrian, so I’ll call it a club. Just a quiet little place for intimate friends. After seeing my painting, he asked for a copy on the spot and paid me handsomely for it. He’s hung the picture in a place of honor in his fine establishment, and everyone who sees it is thrilled to hear that Captain America is an accomplished artist himself.

I’ve tucked my commission money away. Maybe I can use it to treat you two to an evening out when you finally make it over here to my little corner of the world, as a thank you for inspiring me and so many—and to thank you for your service, of course. I’m tickled to death to hear you may come for more than just a quick visit. Steve, I’d love to show you the ropes of the art world out here, as would many of my artist friends, I’m sure. We have quite a friendly, welcoming little circle out here. So hurry home as soon as you can—California is waiting.

All the best,  
Frank


	8. Bucky

Dear Ma,

I’m sorry if you didn’t get a lot of my letters--they were short and not that special on account of what I was afraid of--that they wouldn’t get to you. But that’s all right. I am safe, and I just want to make sure you always know that, and I finally got about ten of your letters, all at once, only just a little late for my birthday! What a present.

The mail caught up to us here in England. So here, where the mail service is more reliable, I guess I had better write you a real long letter so as to fill you in on a lot of things at once. I actually shouldn’t say mail. I should say the post! It’s very funny how in England the words we use for one thing, they use for another thing entirely. Luckily we have Monty, who explains some of it to us. We also made another new friend here who taught us how to pronounce some of the most tonguetwisting tonguetorkers you ever heard. Listen to this, they got a place in London Loughborough that I thought was low-brow but is really Luff bo row. Or a place that’s Holburn but is really hoe bun, except I called it horn at first. I have to say I never thought I’d see so many countries as I have and now I can tell you Italy was pretty great it really was. Lots of warm water and time to swim almost as good as the McCarren Park Pool back home and much less chlorine. Though the Jerries did their best to dump some stuff in there and we routed em but good. I’d go back to Italy after the war I really would and I wish I could take you and Dad and the girls too.

But here we are in London now. I tried to go visit the great detective on Baker Street but he wasn’t Holme. We saw the Globe Theater; well, it’s obviously not the real Globe Theater. I mean Theatre. That’s how they spell it here. It’s not the real Globe, that burnt down, but they call it the Globe and that’s good enough for me--though the Paramount Theat(re) will always be paramount in my heart. But it was great, Ma, I can’t even tell you how great. They do shows, you know, for us servicemen over here. The show me and Steve saw was called a Midsummer Night’s Dream.

O my God. I have never seen anything like it. It was beautiful, so beautiful I had to hang onto the words as they came out of the actors’ mouths as if they were a safety line to some big beautiful ship pulling me along. It felt almost realer than life. I knew I was sitting there watching but it felt like I was watching something so important. Maybe not more important than what we do, maybe not more important than fighting, but maybe so. Because taking the time to sit back and watch made it all feel true in a way that a lot of stuff we do doesn’t feel true or entirely thought-out. You see how it is: how Steve was always rushing around back home, but he is his most true when he sits still to draw something, looking at something. I don’t draw, but I pay attention. I don’t know.

Then at the end, when the fairy sprite Puck gives a speech… I have to tell you about it. Here it is. I know I have it right, because there’s a book shop on Charing Cross Road and I went straight there and bought a copy.

The man who played Puck said this, and I think he said it somewhat to make up for him not being a fighter in the war but just an entertainer. I mean, he’d have said those words anyhow, but that’s the tone he took. So here are the words to the speech. I don’t know why I’m copying it out. Maybe I want to pretend I wrote it. Anyhow, here is what he said:

”If we shadows have offended,  
Think but this, and all is mended,  
That you have but slumber’d here  
While these visions did appear.  
And this weak and idle theme,  
No more yielding but a dream,  
Gentles, do not reprehend:  
if you pardon, we will mend:  
And, as I am an honest Puck,  
If we have unearned luck  
Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,  
We will make amends ere long”

It made me think a bit. You know how Steve was on the stage and all. Well, we’ve been talking it over, and after the war, I was thinking: maybe I’ll make a go of it in Hollywood too. What do you think of that, Ma? It’s maybe just a Midsummer dream but… and I know for sure I’d miss you all like crazy but… I think I could do it. What do you think? If you tell me not to, I won’t.

Anyhow, the Globe Theatre was pretty great. We heard how they used to throw stuff at the stage. Though not peanuts cause they didn’t have peanuts I guess. Peanuts are just one of many American things I miss along with Baseball. I do keep up with the Dodgers but boy the war ain’t done them any favors tho it did flick DiMaggio off the Yankees roster and that’s some good--he’s a Sergeant now just like me, only in Hawaii, as you probably know. Ha, he had an interview in Yank Magazine that said as how he’s raring to go and see real combat. Poor fella. He wants to do his part just like anyone.

But us here overseas, well we’re doing our part playing actual baseball ourselves. We got a bit of time to try our luck in a pick up game of our own and Jim Morita and Dum Dum are not so bad neither is Gabe Jones--it was an Integrated pick up game we do that here in England it is neat. Of course Steve said he wouldn’t play on account of fairness but I made him umpire. But we lost anyhow, because of everyone got wind of us being the Howling Commandos and talking big, so they rounded up Leon Day from the Negro Leagues who happened to be in London on leave and boy did he embarrass us all. It was great to watch and so that’s all right. Captain America shook his hand after and signed a card for him.

Anyhow London is great but they do get bombed a lot and they’re real brave for standing up to that as nicely as they do. (We’re fine ourselves). We met a real interesting fella who made friends with us he is in the RAF he is a gunner and boy he must be a good shot--he almost beat me at darts.

See I’m still dragging Steve out to have fun. That’s my main job as Sergeant don’t you know. Someone has got to keep up Steve’s morale what with him keeping up all our morales for us. He gets so serious sometimes. Meanwhile you know me, as soon as I don’t have a job to do there I am taking a nap or lying in the sun, not looking for more and more work, and that’s fine, isn’t it because life is life and it’s okay to relax like you always say so long as we got our chores done we do what makes us happy.

I guess I’d say I’d kill for a little peace and quiet overall. That’s a funny thing to say. I almost crossed that out, but then I thought you’d laugh. You can even show Ruthie how I said that. She’d get a kick from it. She’d love my stand up comedy routine. I am a funny guy. But looks aren’t everything. ha ha. By the way thank you for sending a picture of all of you boy does Lizzie look grown up with her hair curled! I couldn’t believe it.

By the way, you don’t have to worry about sending candy or nothing here to England. Here in London they sure feed us up. Even the non com mess is amazing with what they pile on your plate. They don’t let you leave without finishing every scrap! Really, it puts the talking-tos you gave us to shame. Even Steve gets guilted in finishing everything and heck, I sometimes give him _two_ plates to handle (which he needs, trust me). But yes, it’s a regular old Christmas dinner every day or Thanksgiving tho they don’t have Thanksgiving here on account of being Blighters. Blighters means Englanders, or maybe Blighties does. I didn’t know that! They call England Blighty. Why is that? I don’t know! But it sounds real nice the way it rolls off the tongue--it’s like all these English guys are somehow smarter than us just on account of how fast they talk and in so musical a way. Even those not high brow talking like Basil Rathbone or whatnot have great sounding voices even if Cockney or Scots or whatnot it is amazing. You should have heard the guy we played darts with the other night, he talked so fast and funny like Danny Kaye but British sort of only Northern (that is Scots? Or like scots. But not). it was great, he even got Steve to loosen his collar and have a good time.

Wow, is this ever a long letter. I suppose that’s me putting all my eggs in one basket hoping it gets to you all right but it had better. We’re heading off on some Top Secret stuff soon so I don’t know if I will be able to write or receive letters for a time. I’ll tell you, though: this furlough in London has been some of the best time I’ve had in about a year. It may not be beautiful like Italy and it sure isn’t Brooklyn, but it’s not a bad place to be.

I guess I’ve got to send the letters to Becca and Ruthie and Lizzie and Dad off in another envelope because this one’s out of space. Tell Ruthie happy birthday in advance if I miss it. Give her a kiss. Make her really hold still for it and not try to get away, and repeat very up close to her face: your brother loves you and don’t you forget it.

Love your son,  
Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[Leon Day](http://www.baseballinwartime.com/player_biographies/day_leon.htm)  
> -[That bookstore on Charing Cross Road](http://www.historytoday.com/blog/2013/08/story-soes-code-war)


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